


Brian’s Choice

by ArabellaTallent



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArabellaTallent/pseuds/ArabellaTallent
Summary: In MOBY Roger and Buck talk about warning Brian about what is to come.  Here’s how I think the conversation might have gone had they chosen to warn Brian.
Relationships: Extended Family - Relationship
Kudos: 11





	Brian’s Choice

“What’ll you do? What’ll we do? Surely we should warn him, say something.”

Roger looked at Buck and shook his head as if trying to sort his thoughts into order.

“You’re right, of course. But if we do, then Jamie won’t be there in the cottage in 1743 needing his shoulder putting back. Claire can’t warn them about the Cocknammon ambush.”

“But if Jamie’s not there, it won’t matter - -.”

“But Claire will be there. If something happens to Dougal - -.” He stopped, horrified. He had been going to say if something happens to Dougal, who will protect Claire from being attacked or raped by the other men, but then Roger realised if Dougal didn’t survive that encounter, then Buck wouldn’t be born. Heavens, he might not be born! He counted on his fingers. Claire had said Geillis was probably five months pregnant in the thieves’ hole ... no, not May, mid-summer. Buck would be conceived mid-summer, not in the early Scottish spring.

To tell Brian, to warn him. And if they did - if he did - how would Brian react? Would he act on the information? Would Brian still keel over and subsequently die on that day, a year or so hence, even if he was not at Fort William?

“I don’t know, Buck. If we do tell him, how do we do that, which of us tells him? What do we tell him? Just Jamie? The Rising? The reprisals? How do we explain it, how we know it? And Jamie himself? Do you think Jamie would consider the survival of his father a fair exchange for never knowing Claire, never having Brianna - dear God, I will never know Brianna. We’ll never have Jemmy or Mandy. So much turns on this one event.”

“Mr MacKenzie, Mr MacKenzie!”. Buck and Roger both turned to see Jenny calling them from the doorway. “Supper is ready for ye both. Will ye be coming in, please.”

“Aye, happily Mistress Jenny!” Roger smiled over towards her. He looked at Buck, “We can’t know telling him will make things better - or worse - for them.”

They turned, walked into the house, lost in their own thoughts and deliberations, towards the delicious smell of their supper.

——

Roger lay in the bed in what would be his children’s playroom in 250 years time - but only if he kept quiet? The more he knew Brian, the more he saw the man Jamie would become. Generous, perceptive, concerned, charismatic. But Jamie, how could he put Jamie through what he knew was coming? What you never have ... Would Jamie think the floggings were worth the exchange of meeting and loving Claire. And the loss of her for those long years. The emptiness of those years both Jamie and Claire would live through. If he told Brian, not everything, just advising him about how to avoid the future, would life still have a way of coming right?

——

After breakfast the next morning, Brian invited Roger into the speak-a-while.

“I’ve had a message from Fort William. The new commander there has something that might lead to your boy.”

“The new commander, is he called Randall?”

“Why, yes. Yes, he is. How’d ye ken that?”

“Well, Mr Fraser, I’ve heard of this man, and I think it best ye stay away from him. Keep a low profile ..”. He stopped as Brian’s face twisted in puzzlement. “Oh, aye. Umm ... don’t draw attention to yerself. Don’t let him be too aware of you and this estate.”

“Why d’ye think that? We had a good relationship with the last Fort commander.”

“Mr Fraser - Brian. This is impossible... I’ve no idea how to tell you this...” Roger stopped, trying to find the words for one conherent sentence. “There’s no reason you should believe what I’m going to tell you. No reason you should act on what I’m going to say. Buck and I, we’ll go to see him, but we’ll no’ come back here. We’ll do everything to deflect his attention from you and your family. Buck and I ...” he stopped talking again, running his hand through his hair. He turned and looked out of the window for a moment, trying to think what to say next. “Thank you, and Mistress Jenny, for everything you’ve done for us, and I’m sorry we’ve brought you and your family to this man’s notice.”

“Mr MacKenzie, why are you so frightened of Randall? What has he done to you to be so worried about him and my family?”

Roger sat down. “Brian - I can call you Brian? - Brian, I know things. If I told you how I know them you’d not believe me. And that might be your best reaction. You don’t believe me. Then ye’ll think I’m mad, delusional, possessed. I’m sure there are other words and you’ll probably think I’m all those other words as well!”

Brian smiled. “Roger, my daughter and I, we may live in a remote valley awa’ from big cities, awa’ even from Leoch. But we ken some things. I was brought up in a castle wi’ a library. I’ve read Montaigne, Descartes, even Machiavelli. My son, I sent him to Paris to the Université. I think learning and experience are good. Tell me what ye think I ought t’know.”

“Randall, he’s here to stir up trouble. To do that he’ll go through the countryside, stealing from farmhouses, crofts. Lairds, tacksmen, cottagers. He’ll arrest young men on flimsy excuses, inflict punishments out of proportion to trumped up charges. I don’t know your Jamie, but I think I know you, sir. And I know Jamie will be irresistible to Randall. He’ll be wary of you, sir. Your immediate connections might deter him. But I think Jamie would be a challenge to him and he’d cement his power by rejecting your pleas and anyone else’s pleas. And that intransigence will consolidate his position with his sponsor.”

Brian glanced up. “How d’ye know ...?”

“About your father? I said, sir. I know things. And I said I didn’t think you’d believe what I know. Or how I know it.”

Roger walked around the room, looking at the ledgers and titles of the books on the shelves behind Brian’s desk, remembering the times he had stood in this same room looking at the same shelves, sitting at the same desk, amazed they’d survived 250 years.

He turned back into the room. Through the window he could see Buck holding the washing basket while Jenny pegged out the laundry.

“I could tell you many things, but rather I’ll advise you. Have Jamie stay in France, carry on with his studies, perhaps join Jared’s firm and learn the wine business, or join the French army. But whatever you do, don’t let him come home.”

“James Stuart, his son, Charles Edward, he’s much the same age as Jamie. He’ll launch another Rising. It’ll fail disastrously. In ten years’ time the clans will be destroyed, tartan will be banned, wearing kilts will be illegal, guns will be forbidden in the Highlands. People, your people, those who survive, will be starving.”

“I beg you, find new foodstuffs to grow so you’re not reliant on just oats and barley, build hiding places for your valuables and to store food.” Roger stopped. Unsure what else to say, concerned he’d said too much.

“Roger?” Roger turned to look at Brian. “You said you come from Inverness, you and your kinsman.” Roger noticed Brian’s accent was suddenly formal. Upper class. He’d lost the Scottish burr he usually had.

“Yes.”

“Inverness or nearby?”

“Nearby.”

“Hmm. I’ve wondered. I’ve heard the stories and songs, but why should it just be women?”

Roger looked steadily at Brian. “Women?” But he knew where this was going and was prepared.

“I shouldn’t ask you where you come from, should I? I think it’s when?”

“Yes, sir. It is when.”

“Well, when is it? In the songs it’s 200 years. Is it 1937?”

“No, sir. It’s later than that. It’s 1980. I’m Jamie’s son in law. My wife, Jamie’s daughter, she’s born in my time, but she’s able to travel. That’s what we call it. To go back and forward in time. Jamie’s wife, she’s a traveller. Our daughter is ill and we went back - or forward so she could be cured. In 1980 they can do it, but not in 1780.”

Brian was silent. For a very long time. He looked at his blotter with his fingers steepled, slightly frowning. And suddenly Roger was back at the Ridge, looking at Jamie as he puzzled over a knotty problem.

“Roger, if I take your advice, tell Jamie to stay in France, will he meet your wife’s mother?”

“All things are possible, but I don’t see how.”

“Hmmph.”

“Claire ...”

“Claire?”

“Jamie’s wife. That’s her name. She’ll come through and meet Jamie on his 22nd birthday.”

“Come through?”

“Oh! Yes. It’s how we describe it. We’re none of us sure how it works. You touch one of the stones at Craigh na Dun and it happens. When we end up can be difficult to judge, but we’re getting better at it.”

“But you’re not one of Claire’s descendants. How come you can travel?”

“I’m descended from another traveller. She’s living in Cranesmuir. Now. She came ... comes through in 1968.”

“You’re a MacKenzie - of Leoch?”

“Yes. Buck is my ancestor and his father is Dougal. Dougal and the woman in Cranesmuir, they’re his parents, and I’m Buck’s descendant.”  
Brian was silent again.

“Claire. Does she love Jamie? If I forget what you’ve told me, is she worth me letting Jamie come home?”

“There’s more ...”

“Aye, I guessed.”

There was a knock on the door and Buck came in.

“Buck. There’s news of Jemmy at Fort William. We should go. Take ourselves away and leave our generous host and hostess to their lives. Mr Fraser, I thank you and Mistress Jenny for your kindness and help. We can’t repay you.”

“Mr MacKenzie,” Brian nodded in Roger’s direction, “Mr MacKenzie,” looking at Buck, “It has been my daughter and my pleasure to have you here.” Buck turned and left the room and Roger went to follow, but Brian grabbed his arm.

“How much more? How bad?”

Roger stood for a moment.

“If I knew what was to come was happening to me, I don’t think I’d know how to face it. Actually, I’d not wish it on my worst enemy - not even Captain Randall.”

He turned to walk out of the room.

“Thank you,” Brian said quietly. “Go, find your son. Find your way back to my granddaughter. If - when you see my son again, tell him I love him.”

END


End file.
